26

The atmosphere on board the Dauntless was mixed. There was an air of anticipation, of course. Clones were looking forward to being reunited with lost brothers. Hopeful that their friends would be waiting on Hareth. But there was also a healthy dose of fear, as well. Of nerves.

They knew there was a chance they weren't all going to make it back.

Most of the troopers were in the main hull, talking quietly amongst themselves. It was crowded down here. While a few of their pilots were flying the four cargo ships behind them with small crews, there were still over thirty Clones stuffed in here. While there was plenty of space for standing and sitting, bed space was limited to only ten.

Saedii had ordered anyone with flight experience to take a bed. Just in case they needed them. Everyone else would be spending the night in a chair.

Including her.

One of Master Plo's many lessons had been that a leader must endure the conditions of their troops. If the Clones were hungry, then Master Plo went hungry. If the Clones were cold, then Plo was cold.

If Saedii's troopers were going to be sleeping on the ground tonight, then so was she.

A few had already assumed comfortable positions in landing chairs. Or as comfortable as they could get. At the sight of their too-large bodies sprawled awkwardly across the small chairs, Saedii went down into storage and pulled out as many blankets as she could, passing them around.

Once she'd passed out all the blankets she could find, Saedii went up to the bridge to try and get some sleep herself.

Rex, Echo and Howzer were up there, sitting at a table and talking in low voices. Behind them, asleep at the controls, Tuck – Rex's best pilot – had his feet kicked up on the dash.

Sharp, bitter caff filled the air. As nice as sleep sounded, a cup of that sounded even better.

The boys all looked up as she slid into the seat next to Echo. Without asking, he filled up the empty mug in his hand and slid it in front of her.

"Thanks," she mumbled. Exhaustion was settling heavy on her shoulders. In her head, she tried to count the hours since she'd last slept, but gave up when she got past twenty-four.

"We were just finalizing our battle plans," Rex said, rubbing at his tired eyes. He slid a holopad towards her across the table. "Want to take a look?"

She wanted to sleep, not look over battle plans. But as one of the two commanding officers, she didn't have a choice.

Saedii sipped from her coffee as she read over Rex's outline. The scrawled handwriting was nothing new to her. Most of the Clones had terrible handwriting. The Kaminoans hadn't exactly spent a ton of time on writing lessons.

"Two prong attack?" Saedii asked, identifying the two circles for attack squads.

"Yes. A full frontal at the main gate and the extraction squad in the back."

Smart. The full frontal would draw fire, giving the extraction team more time to get the troopers off world without focusing their energy on enemy fire.

Howzer refilled his cup. "Even with the four cargo ships, we'll need to take two trips. That means we'll need to account for flight time on and off world, as well as deboarding five hundred men per rig. Some of whom may be sick due to prolonged exposure of Hareth's atmosphere, which will take longer."

"Rough estimate. How long will we need per trip?" Saedii asked.

"Fifteen minutes. Maybe more," Echo said quietly.

Which meant the extraction team needed a full thirty minutes to safely evacuate every Clone.

Saedii blew out a breath. "That's a long time."

"Too long." Echo's jaw was tight. He was looking at her.

It wasn't hard to guess why. If there was an Inquisitor on Hareth, that meant Saedii would have to keep him busy for those thirty minutes.

She laid the holopad on the table, sliding it back. "Where do you want me, Rex?"

Rex hesitated. His dark brown eyes flicked between Echo and Saedii. She knew what he wanted to say. What his analytical mind had already decided. He just didn't want to say it in front of Echo.

"Rex," Saedii pressed. "You know what makes the most sense."

"You'll lead the frontal attack," he said.

A furrow appeared between Echo's brows.

Before he could argue, Saedii explained, "A Jedi at the front gate will draw all available personnel. It'll also coax whatever Inquisitor is hiding around to come to me at the front instead of the back, where the Clones are escaping. Strategically, this makes the most sense."

"I know," Echo conceded. "It's just the forward attack is always at the most risk. Always suffers the most casualties –"

"Echo, you can't think of me as a kid right now. Just another solider."

"But you're not just another soldier. You're our best asset."

"Even more reason to put me in the front."

He looked like he wanted to argue more, but Saedii pinched the bridge of her nose and begged, "Can we argue about this tomorrow? I'm exhausted. I want to grab some sleep if I can."

Echo let a defeated sigh. "Fine."

"Actually, kid, there's one more thing you need to know." Rex turned a significant look to Howzer.

"I didn't want to show this at the initial briefing," Howzer explained as he pushed the holopad back to Saedii. "But this is what's waiting for you on Hareth."

On screen, standing in front of the gate of the prison, was a lone figure, dressed entirely in black. A silver mask in a grim rendering of a skull covered his face.

She knew who it was anyways.

Kalth.

Perhaps this was Kalth's opportunity to redeem himself after his failure on Serenno. Or perhaps Vader knew that Kalth was Saedii's weak spot. He'd made her hesitate before, so maybe he'd do it again.

Either way, this wasn't going to be easy.

"Isn't that –" Echo began.

"Yes."

If he'd looked hesitant before, now he was downright reluctant.

Saedii laid the holopad back on the table. "Looks like we have a hell of a fight waiting for us, boys."

"That we do, Commander." Howzer was grim.

"We've faced tougher odds before," Rex said determinedly.

Echo gave a shake of his head. "I don't know, Rex. The Clone Wars were bad, but this...we might not make it back from this."

"That's not exactly new for us Clones."

In her mind, Saedii saw all the Clones that she'd lost. All their faces. Their last moments. Some, she'd only known briefly. Others she knew for months before they'd died. But each death had hurt the same.

"You know," Howzer said quietly into the silence that followed. "My battalion had a Jedi, once. Ilara Iyumi. Did you know her?"

Saedii shook her head. She'd heard of her, of course. Ilara had served for eight years as Master Agen Kolar's Padawan. And less than a week after she'd been named Jedi Knight, Saedii had attended her funeral.

"We were on Yavin. It was General Iyumi's first command. She, uh, stepped on a hidden explosive." His throat worked as he swallowed. "The explosion killed her instantly."

The other three were quiet. Saedii knew how dangerous the fighting had been on Yavin. Had heard all kinds of tales of vicious battles and dangerous creatures. Of whole battalions disappearing in the jungles. It would have been easy, with all the chaos, to step on an explosive. Even for a Force user.

"I, uh, had to take over command. Finish the battle. By the time relief came, we'd lost over a hundred men."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rex said quietly.

Howzer nodded. "I know that this battle we have on Hareth is going to be tough, but I'll never forget what it was like on Yavin. That was...the worst thing I've ever lived through. I still get nightmares about it."

Clones were usually so stoic. Never revealed weakness if they could help it. Admitting this – it must have taken a lot for Howzer.

Saedii couldn't let it go unnoticed.

"Mine was the Battle of Qivim," she said.

"Qivim?" Echo looked dumb-struck. "Not Kamino?"

At the thought of Kamino – of the terrible, searing pain, of nearly drowning trapped beneath thousands of pounds of concrete and metal – she gave a little shiver.

But while she had suffered on Kamino, on Qivim, she'd had to watch as dozens of her soldiers suffered. In the wake of their battle to destroy a Separatist droid factory, Saedii and the 104th had been left trapped on the snowy planet for nearly two weeks before help had arrived.

They'd had no food. Little water. No real shelter except for the hidden caves they'd dug out from the piles of snow. It had been so bitterly cold that not even the fires they burned had been enough to keep them all warm.

Most troopers had left with mild to severe cases of frost bite. Saedii, too, had nearly lost a few fingers. But the worst had been watching as troopers quite literally froze to death before her eyes. Watching as they shivered and begged for warmth that they'd never feel again, huddling as close together as they could. Each morning that they woke, there were always new bodies to be found. New bodies to be buried in the snow outside.

There was nothing worse than watching your friends die from exposure.

"Kamino was awful. But Qivim was worse. Much worse."

"Wolffe told me you lost nearly half of your legion," Rex said quietly.

Saedii nodded. It had taken the 104th nearly a month to recover after Qivim. Even Saedii and Plo had been bedridden for several days after their rescue, and when they'd finally recovered, they'd discovered their ranks had been replenished. New troopers, most young and straight off the training grounds, had been pulled in to replace all the dozens they'd lost.

Next to her, Echo let out a long breath. Only Saedii was close enough to hear the quiver in it. The pain. "Mine was the Citadel."

Pain and regret flashed over Rex's face before he could hide it. His brown eyes, usually so warm, chilled with remorse as he looked at Echo.

Saedii understood why he was upset. In many ways, Rex still blamed himself for what had happened to Echo on Lola Sayu. She saw it every time he looked at the bolts on Echo's head or the scomp where his right hand should have been.

Howzer gestured towards Echo. "Is that where you got all of this?"

"No." Echo ran his left hand over the bolts on his head. "No, this came after. Believe it or not, I don't even remember this part."

Rex's face had gone blank, but there was the slightest tightening around his eyes. The only sign of his grief. His regret.

"The worst part of the Citadel," Echo explained, "is that I went in with my brothers. With General Skywalker and Commander Tano. Then the next thing I knew, I was waking up on Skako Minor, hooked up to all kinds of machines. Weak and delirious."

He looked down at his scomp arm. Eyes running over the blunted edge of the tip and the smooth metal that disappeared beneath his sleeve. "For me, it felt like I blinked and woke up lightyears away. Years of my life gone. My body ripped apart and put back together again, used against my will to fight the brothers I'd sworn to protect. And my best friend – the one person I loved more than anyone – was dead."

Very slowly, Saedii reached out and laid her hand on Echo's arm. Giving him a gentle squeeze. He patted her hand – a silent signal that he was alright.

Rex didn't look alright. That stoic expression of his had shifted. Cracked. For a moment, he looked vulnerable. Broken.

That expression only grew worse as Howzer turned to him and asked, "What about you, Rex? What was your worst?"

"Mandalore." Rex's answer was immediate. No hesitation. No elaboration.

This time, it was Echo's turn to look pained. From what Rex and Ahsoka had told her of Mandalore, the siege had been brutal, but it had been nothing compared to the battle after. When the Chancellor had called for Order 66.

If Echo hadn't been with the Bad Batch at the time, he would have been on that cruiser. Would have had to fight against Rex and the others. Or perhaps died along with the rest of the 501st, if his chip had kicked in.

For a very long moment, the cockpit was quiet. Heavy emotion filled the air – anguish, loss, grief, regret. The Clone Wars had taken its toll on the galaxy, but none more so than from the soldiers who'd fought.

From the troopers who'd been created to die in their thousands for a Republic that had crumbled and splintered.

From the Jedi who'd unknowingly fought under the banner of the dark side and handed power over to the Sith.

And from the survivors, who were trying to pick up the pieces left behind.

There'd been no victory to the war. All the sacrifices they'd made – the friends they'd lost, the trauma they'd incurred – had been for nothing.

"I don't regret it," Saedii said suddenly. "Qivim, Order 66 – any of it."

Howzer looked at her like she was crazy. But the tightness around Rex's eyes loosened, as if he understood.

Saedii looked at Echo and smiled. "The war was the best and worst part of my life. But it brought me here with all of you. With the Batch and Omega. And the time that I've spent with you all, I wouldn't trade for anything."

A warm smile played on Echo's face. "Neither would I."

Howzer suddenly looked lost in thought. As if he, too, were thinking of all that he'd gained since the war had ended. Perhaps he was thinking of his friendship with Gregor. Or the dozens of Clones that waited for them back on Teth, happy and free.

Rex, too. He'd been reunited with many of his closest friends – Master Skywalker and Ahsoka and Commander Cody. While nothing could replace the brothers he'd lost, he still had a family worth fighting for.

For the briefest moment, Saedii looked at the empty seats around the table and thought of her own family. Of Hunter and Omega and the others, back home on Teth. And that sadness that she'd pushed down earlier came creeping back in.

"Hunter and the rest care for you, too. More than you know." Exho lowered his voice so that only Saedii could hear.

Saedii knew that, of course. But the knowledge that they'd abandoned her when she'd needed them most still stung. She'd thought their love had run deeper than that.

She missed them. Talking about all they'd lost reminded her that she still had something worth fighting for. That she still had a family she didn't want to lose. Not having them here didn't feel right.

"You'll see. When we get back, everything will go back to how it was."

"I hope so," Saedii admitted. She rested her head on Echo's shoulder, too tired to talk about it right now.

But she couldn't fight the feeling that cracks had begun to form in the foundation of the Batch. That something monumental had happened when Saedii chose to go and they chose to stay.

And there was a small part of her was afraid that those cracks wouldn't heal.